


A Little Knowledge

by MistralAmara



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Drama, Gen, Humor, Languages, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-25
Updated: 2011-06-25
Packaged: 2017-10-20 17:11:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistralAmara/pseuds/MistralAmara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vila has a surprising talent. Now, if only Avon and Tarrant will let him use it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Knowledge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nicola Mody (Vilakins)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vilakins/gifts).



" _Ereth tuath androvaar_ ," said Vila mournfully.

"No," replied Orac. "The 'a' must be longer: _Ereth tuath androvaaar._ "

"Whatever," muttered Vila. He glared from the unfamiliar characters on his screen to Orac and back again. "Avon, I don't want to do this. Why can't Orac just translate directly?"

"Because the Kensari are technophobes. We won't get within half a mile of them with Orac in tow."

"But I can't do it! It'll take me months, _years_ to learn."

"You have a week." Avon turned and crossed to the pilot's station. He wouldn't give Vila an excuse to be distracted.

Unfortunately, it meant dealing with Tarrant's concerns. "Are you sure about this?" Tarrant asked. "Leaving our fate in Vila's hands--I don't like it. This isn't a locked door we're talking about."

Avon shrugged. "Orac insists that Vila is the person best equipped for the job. It says he has some hitherto untapped talent for languages. Something about language patterns being not unlike the patterns used in locks." He paused, reluctant to admit the obvious. "We've no choice. We need those minerals for the power converters. The next closest source is a month away without them."

" _Tolibrek systa Manichoor._ "

"Yes!" cried Orac. "Now conjugate the verb _intarae_."

Avon and Tarrant watched in silence. There was nothing to say.

***

The Kensari were a friendly people. Hospitality was an art form with them, and negotiations would be preceded by a lavish outdoor banquet and lengthy entertainments. Orac had briefed them on the protocols, which mostly involved keeping one's feet on one's own cushion and showing enthusiasm for the food by licking one's fingers. The chief difficulty was in persuading Vila not to overindulge in the local liquor, although Avon and Tarrant allowed themselves to sip the rich, fruity beverage slowly as they ate.

A dozen courses were interspersed with enthusiastic singing, and long speeches by local officials. Vila translated anything that might be important under his breath, but for the most part Avon just tried to look attentive and smile at what seemed appropriate moments, and Tarrant followed suit. The headman, Brakkan, addressed Avon directly with increasing frequency, and after the dozenth time or so, it began to irk Avon to have to rely on Vila's assistance to make the simplest responses. He did his best to hide his irritation, however, as the smallest faux pas might jeopardize the negotiations. As afternoon stretched into twilight, attendants lit the torches that were ranged around the table at intervals; their flicker and crackle reminded Avon of just how far the Kensari dislike of technology went. It was inconceivable to him, a man of science. As he waited for the preliminaries to conclude, he felt oddly reassured by the weight of the teleport bracelet concealed under his jacket.

Finally, after an elaborately staged dance performed by Brakkan's daughters, the dessert course was served. After this course, the actual, relatively simple negotiations could begin. His goal in sight, Avon felt himself start to relax a bit. He looked around the long, low table. He did have a bit of a sweet tooth; he might as well indulge it while he waited.

He tried several of the dishes, including some types of fruit he'd never seen, an odd sort of spiced and candied meat, and some pastries that were so delicate they dissolved almost as he bit into them. Looking about for something more substantial, he spied a plate of exotic chocolate-dipped fruits near the headman, who was absorbed in a discussion with the official next to him. Under ordinary circumstances, it would have been a simple matter to wait for a gap in the conversation and then ask politely for the dish to be passed, but here on Kensar, his entire vocabulary consisted of two words: _deri_ and _danaab_ , please and thank you. He was irritatingly dependent upon Vila for anything more.

That was about to change.

"Vila," Avon said in an undertone, "tell me how to ask the headman to pass that plate of chocolate fruits."

"Oh, Avon, I don't think--"

"No, you don't. Now, tell me what to say."

"Maybe you should listen to him," interrupted Tarrant. "Orac did say he was best qualified."

"To learn the language," replied Avon. "I don't want to learn the language. Just one sentence." He stared at Vila. "Well?"

Vila looked pained, but gave up his protest. "Oh, all right. _Vetith ameni ensalaait Tantaoro_."

"Thank you." Avon turned to the headman. "Brakkan. _Deri, vetith ameni ensalaait Tanatoro_."

Brakkan started, and the guards behind him snapped to attention. Conversation nearby ceased, and all eyes turned balefully on Avon. Vila put his head in his hands and groaned.

Tarrant rushed to the rescue. "No! No, that's not what he meant. _Venith ameni ensalaait Tantaroto!_ "

" _Akirikru!_ " shouted Brakkan, nostrils flaring. " _Nayva ameniia Tantaroto!_ " The guards surged forward, their technologically backwards but still deadly and painful-looking weapons bearing down on Avon and his companions.

Suddenly Vila was up on his knees, hands out, palms up. " _Naya, naya! Nayva Tantaroto! Nayva Tanatoro. Beliquoori, deri beliquoori._ "Brakkan looked at him narrowly, but put his hand up, and the guards froze. Vila gestured towards the plate of fruit. " _Emeleth kurtanis 'vetith ameni ensalaait Tantaoro.'_ " He pointed at Avon and Tarrant. " _Emeleth naya pethaariias Kensariti. Bellifruulan, anantan bellifruulan._ " He gave a cautious bow, which Avon and Tarrant copied as best they could while still seated.

Brakkan looked suspiciously at Avon and Tarrant. " _Emeleth kurtanis nayva Sovoran? Nayva Hilemelaan?_ " Vila nodded, and Brakkan turned to confer in whispers with the other officials. There seemed to be some disagreement going on. Several looks, some angry, some sympathetic, were cast towards Avon and his companions. Finally, the officials seemed to reach an uneasy consensus. They settled back onto their cushions and regarded the Liberator crew with solemn faces. Avon noted with some concern that the weapons were still pointed steadily in their direction.

Brakkan picked up a morsel from his plate and chewed it idly, watching Avon and the others as if weighing them against some ideal in his mind. " _Yoush_ ," he said, finally. He stood, and the guards stirred alarmingly. Avon tensed in readiness, sensing Tarrant doing the same beside him.

But all that happened was that Brakkan turned his foot parallel to them and stamped it on the ground--once, twice, three times. Then he turned and left. A moment later, the guards followed him. Another moment after that, some of the officials--not all of them--began to leave, too, melting away without a word or backward glance.

Before Avon could ask what it all meant, Vila was tugging at his sleeve. "Get up slowly and back away. Now."

"What?"

"Just do it."

As much as he disliked being in the dark about things, there was something in Vila's manner that persuaded him. That, and the fact that the remaining Kensari began to mutter darkly among themselves. With a warning look to Tarrant, he followed Vila's lead, bowing to the remaining Kensari before backing away as gracefully as he could manage. Which wasn't, very; he stumbled over a loose rock and only managed to avoid falling because of Vila's steadying hand at his back.

Immediately that they were out of the oval of light cast by the torches, Vila hurried them towards a small stand of trees. He didn't let them stop until they were as well hidden from the banqueters as the available cover would allow. "Bracelets," he said, pulling his from a pocket and donning it.

"Wait a minute," Tarrant protested. "What just happened?"

"Not now," said Vila, thumbing his bracelet's call button. Avon and Tarrant barely had time to get their own bracelets on before the teleport took them.

***

Cally was waiting for them in the teleport. There was no mistaking the fact that they'd come back empty-handed. "What happened?" she asked. "Where are the minerals?"

"We'd like to know that as well," said Avon.

"What happened is that they decided to let us go," said Vila, tugging at the fastenings of his surface jacket. "I thought it best to leave before they had a chance to change their minds."

The others exchanged looks. "We'll need more of an explanation than that," Avon said. "Exactly how bad is it? Can we try to contact them again?"

Vila jammed his teleport bracelet into the rack and spun around to confront Avon. "Look, next time you ask me to do something, let me do it, will you? I spent ages slaving over that language tutorial, and then you go and waste it all by asking the headman to serve you a chocolate-dipped cat!"

"A cat?" said Cally. "Whatever for?"

Tarrant just began to chuckle.

Vila rounded on Tarrant. "I wouldn't be so smug if I were you, Mr. 'Surrender your chocolate-dipped daughter'. Avon only mispronounced one word; you mispronounced two, _and_ forgot to say please into the bargain. Very big on the niceties, are the Kensari. I _might_ have been able to recover from Avon's mistake, but after yours--"

"But I didn't know!"

"Of course you didn't. That was the point, right?" Vila shook his head and headed for the exit. "I need a drink. Or a nap. Or a drink followed by a very long nap . . ." He grumbled off down the corridor in the direction of his cabin. The others stared after him.

Cally recovered first. "Well. Another plan brought to a successful conclusion, I see." She picked up her datapad. "I'll leave you two to treat your own bruised egos," she said, and marched briskly out the door.

The two men looked glumly at each other. "His cat," said Avon.

"His daughter," said Tarrant. "Vila's not going to let us forget this, is he?"

Avon shook his head. "Not for a long time."

"The next closest source of the minerals was Frinian III, wasn't it? I'll have Zen set a course."

"I'll see if I can't route a little more energy from the power converters to the engines. It might shave a day or two off our transit time."

"Right."

They departed to their tasks in silence. They'd said more than enough.

-End-


End file.
